I feel like I have been hitting the snooze button on my blogging for quite a long time now, so here is a rather long entry that does not actually bring you up-to-date. I wrote this entry on September 11, so I should probably get some credit and appreciation for the amount of procrastination involved. Either way, the events begin with the most recent.

RamadanRamadan is a Muslim holiday, based on the Islamic calendar and beginning with the new moon. It involves a month of no eating, drinking, smoking, or having sex during daylight hours (thank you Wikipedia). It’s a time of self-reflection, prayer, and for me, a greater appreciation for the hydrating powers of water. The fast is broken at sundown with lftur (breakfast), and let me tell you the food during Ramadan is a-ma-zing. Traditionally there are dates, shbekiya (doughy cookies covered in honey), and a tomato based soup called hrira. Boiled eggs, milk, and juice are also typically present, but the table fare varies after that. I’ve had pizza, fat bread (thick, fried pastry bread filled with spices, peppers, and grease), something similar to baklava, savory pastries filled with chicken and onions, and the list goes on. Temperatures got up to 105 F where I was, which makes fasting from water the most difficult. There is a second meal around 3 am, and then at the last call to prayer around 4, all drinking and eating must cease again until sunset.

Rafting TripOne of the main reasons I didn’t fast, besides being Baptist, was the enticing alternative I had on my hands. Through the Peace Corps grapevine, I had heard about a Huck Finnesque rafting trip. It was to be this great adventure on a handmade raft, floating down a river I didn’t know, with volunteers I didn’t know, to a destination I didn’t know, and everyone was to set off at a yet undetermined date; it sounded like the trip of a lifetime! It wasn’t until summer camp a month later that I met ‘Finn’ himself and got an official invitation as well as details. The plan was this: we would cut down a tree and build a raft in a day, set out from Ksabi on the Moulouya River with our food and minimal supplies, stop at towns along the way to replenish our food, and make it to Saidia, where the river hits the Mediterranean, in ten days. Now, for those of you who bothered to look at a map, you are probably shaking your heads, laughing, or both. But what you don’t realize, or maybe what you do realize, is that making it to Saidia in ten days wasn’t our first problem. Trusting an axe from souq with the word ‘quality’ carved on the side turned out to be our first problem. Half the tree was chopped – without my help of course – when a passing shepherd commented on the illegality of our actions. At first we weren’t deterred, but with the combination of the axe head flying off every other minute and the impending ticket and jail sentence, we decided to call it quits. We then tried to gain permission from the Ministry of Water and Forests to cut down a tree (obtained for a specific type of tree, none of which were available), we tried to find dead trees to pick up off the ground (illegal), and we also found out that the type of axe we were using was illegal. After about four days of brainstorming, failing, and being told on numerous occasions we would drown no matter what we did, we were finally given the brilliant idea of tying tire tubes together and floating.So that’s what we did. We had a tube each with one additional tube for supplies, tied the three tubes together, attached sticks on top to elevate our bags, tied everything down, and finally set off. Despite the guilt I feel in leaving out the numerous details and therefore cheating the story, the quick summary is this: We floated along, staying with welcoming Moroccans who picked from their fig trees, offered us fresh honey, and gave us water to take with us, all the while hoping we’d stay with them forever. One of my favorite mental images is of Moroccans waving us off in the morning after having stayed with them the night before, while their children chased after us along the cliff face as far as it would take them. We (as in my travel buddy) tried fishing, and that failed due to extremely muddy waters. We had a slingshot. Yeah that’s right. A slingshot. We floated and walked through a lot of shallow, rocky water, which meant bruised butts and feet. But we made it. And by made it, I mean we made it 5 days until we almost got to the first major landmark, decided it would take more than a month to get to Saidia, and we’d had enough of the river. We then got out and caught a bus, spending a few days in the beach towns of Saidia, Ras el Ma, and Nador. Many moments of this trip stick out in mind that I worry I will forget. For example, the sweet Moroccan that continued to call us even after we were out of the river to warn us about the weather. Or when I got a fever and the shits and we stopped in the middle of nowhere, and Moroccans still found us and brought us soup and tea. Or just laying on the riverbed, staring at the sky with no one around. I have another year to go in my service, and, God willing, many more years to live in my life, but this trip will be hard to beat. Summer CampIn July I traveled to Al Jadida to work for about a week at a summer camp. The camp consists of daily clubs and activities, such as geography, aerobics, journalism, debate, leadership, as well as English classes almost every morning. There are excursions planned throughout the week, and in the evenings, either the Moroccan or American staff coordinate ‘spectacular’ events. The great part about the camp is that it is a mix of both scholarship and city kids. Scholarship kids are nominated by volunteers, and therefore are usually from rural areas. So when they come to Al Jadida, which is a larger, less conservative city located on the beach, they are blown away. I was able to see kids swim in the ocean for the first time, girls play dress up with each other, and even the city kids who thought they were too good for activities in the beginning, lightened up and engaged in camp as the week progressed. It was a great opportunity for all the campers and counselors, and I’m really looking forward to doing it again next year.

Gnaoua and Marche MarocBoth of these events took place in Essaouira, a small beach town pretty close to my site. Gnaoua is a yearly music festival that attracts artists and tourists from all over the world, and as someone who only held the All American Rejects in her concert repertoire (thanks Disston), I was really looking forward to it. My college friend and fellow Russian Studies major flew in on her way back from Georgia (the country), and she came along for the fun, so it made the trip a million times better. I returned to Essa some forgotten period of time after the festival in order to do an English workshop with the Small Business Development volunteers. As I mentioned in a previous post, PC is streamlining the sectors into Youth Development next year, and SBD will therefore cease to exist after our group leaves. This announcement was made to the Moroccan artisans for the first time during our session, and I, along with several other YD volunteers, taught a two-day workshop to artisans on basic greetings and customer service techniques in order to aid in their sustainability. It was the first time I had done something like this, and it was not only fun, but actually a success. We gave them advice, seasoned artisans chimed in with what they had learned over the years, and all seemed to enjoy the sessions. We had several of our students come up to us afterwards and tell us PC had held workshops like this in the past, but ours was by far the best. Score! Afterwards we volunteered at the Marche, handing out brochures to tourists and Moroccans, sitting in for artisans if they needed a food or bathroom break, and going on lunch runs. It was a nice change to do cross-sectoral work, and I wish them the best of luck in building a self-sustainable program in the next year.

Back In SiteI know I said I would start with the most recent, but I thought I would mix things up and keep it fresh. I am now back in site after an amazing and eventful summer. My dar chebab opened in September, and my site mate and I are getting activities going and keeping the kids out of trouble. I received two separate donations of books as well as one donation of art supplies, so I was able to start a library. The kids like the books, but LOVE the art supplies. My site mate and I are putting up the kids’ artwork all over the dar chebab, and the kiddies thrive on the encouragement of simply asking them about their drawings and telling them how great they are. It’s amazing how far a little support can go. Along the same line, last week I started a kids’ craft class. The ages ranged from about 5-10, so I am keeping the activities simple and I am aiming to use simple art materials and household products. The first activity, drawing and decorating your own hand, went over really well and this week’s activity will most likely be Halloween-themed. Other potential activities include a science club, soccer tournaments, my site mate is putting together a women’s empowerment blog (sweet idea, right?), English classes (also my site mate), and anything else we can think of. The last week has seen a huge spike in attendance, so my site mate, the newly hired guardian, and I are struggling to keep all the kids entertained before they lose interest in us and we find ourselves without any youth to develop.

And that’s it for now. I’m slowly making changes to the blog, adding some things here and there. So take a look-see.

Artwork from the OWS exchange, now hanging in my DC.

We carved pumpkins from Halloween in my DC. Strange for them at first, but they really got into it. From Summer Camp (July). We had a Halloween Night, which involved bobbing for apples.

Pictures from around my site. This is a door.

More of my site.

Me and a DC buddy.

This was my DC Halloween activity for the kids' art class. These were my examples.

Walking to the equivalent of the city fair in my site.

Playin'More Summer Camp Halloween night.

One of my greatest smallest joys in life is listening to podcasts. They give me a chance to discover things I would not otherwise stumble upon during my time on the Internet or in books. They also give me the joy of waking my neighbors with my hysterical laughter at 7:30 in the morning while listening to the last three weeks of Wait Wait! (seriously, go there and subscribe, it will change your life). I find it fascinating that I can listen to programs on bird watching, food, politics, running, art, health, ANYthing, all the way over here in Morocco. It is absolutely fantastic. All of that is to say one day, not too long ago, I was listening to my iPod, probably doing my dishes, and that particular episode featured an interview with Jonathan Kaplan. I had previously read about his involvement with the Flip and current restaurant endeavors, but knew very little about both and cared less than I knew. But the interview sparked an interest, as Mr. Kaplan was extremely self-motivated, and had attained his current position through a lot of hard work and elbow grease. One particular quote stood out to me, and is the motivation for this post. When asked to give advice to entrepreneurs in a shaky economy, Kaplan said this:

'Stick to your idea, stay focused, and be sure that you're as passionate about your idea as you're telling everyone you are. Because if you are, if you're willing to eat hot dogs, if you're willing to take no salary, if you're willing to hear 'no' so many times that it sounds like 'yes,' then you'll probably be successful.'

Although Mr. Kaplan said you'll probably be successful, I think his words still ring true and it is important to remind yourself daily to stay passionate and focused on your goals, whatever they may be. All the while keeping in mind you might still fail miserably.

Yesterday marked my one year anniversary in country (WOOP!) and I'm working on an actual blog entry that will update ya'll on all the things I've been trying to do here. I'm about half way there, so maybe today or tomorrow I'll have it up.

And to give credit where credit is due, go here for the Kaplan story or just Google him. I can't guarantee the links work, as my connection was too weak to check them myself. However, I will return in a few days and fix any problems.

'And as always in parting, we wish you love, peace, and soul!'

I check my stats. I know that may seem a little egocentric, but I like to see who is reading my words, where they are from, and what led them here in the first place. If it eases your suspicions of my bravado, I probably check less than you think I do. So after checking my stats this afternoon, I found that a Google search of 'peace corps goals not working' led someone to my blog; a little disconcerting to say the least. For those of you who don't see where this is going, I now feel the need to stand up for my employer and myself. Brace yourselves.

The goals of the Peace Corps are something I consider very important, probably because my ability to successfully achieve them are something I struggle with on a daily basis. Maybe reading this article by the Boston Globe, and the current meaning of the Peace Corps will give you a better grasp on what I am talking about.

First of all, in case you didn't read the last boring and poorly explained post about Peace Corps' goals, there are three, one of which focuses on training and development of host country nationals, and the other two of which are about cultural exchange, both on the part of Americans and the country in which the volunteer is living. The previously mentioned article's qualm is mainly with the development aspect of Peace Corps, questioning the sustainability of its projects, mostly given time constraints and resources available to volunteers. All true, all things I have dealt with.

This is where I rabbit trail and tell you all about what I think and deal with and your eyes glaze over and you go back to checking Facebook. Despite what the article says, it is my firm belief that a country, village, or person receives what a volunteer puts in. Boston Globe discusses the lack of resources, the idea of constantly reinventing the wheel. It also says that although volunteers understand a community's needs, the organization of the Peace Corps is not set up for sustainable development. I of course cannot speak for any Peace Corps country outside of my own, but I disagree.

I have found that as a volunteer work is available on request. I can spend all day in my house on Facebook, looking to see who has had a baby this week, catching up on all the movies I'm missing (how I spent last night), and basically wasting my life. Or, I can research grants, donated materials, scholarships, and other resources for my site, and put together project plans. I can attend a knitting class everyday in hopes of beginning a women's cooperative, meet with a counterpart and discuss potential work in my community, and the list goes on and on. Granted, none of this has materialized into anything tangible that would make Boston Globe happy, but it is a start. And a trend I have noticed among volunteers, especially as time goes on and they lose focus, hope, you fill in the blank, is they would rather do the former than the latter.

Branching off on that, I would also say that one of the biggest problems with developing countries, or at least the one I am in, is their mentality. The individuals of any given community, even respected, well-off individuals, either do not understand or do not want to understand what it takes for their community or country to change. Basic skills, mostly logic, are lacking. This makes it difficult to implement sustainable projects, when it is first necessary to train a generation's mindset.

So what does this mean. And what does it have to do with the Peace Corps goals, mainly concerning development, not working? It means that it's hard, really really hard. It's like waking up every morning and running into a wall. Only to get up off the ground, move a little to the left, start going again just to run into the same wall. But is development possible? Yes. Would it be easier if the government gave us a bunch of money and told us to work with big organizations? Maybe, but that wouldn't fix everything. There are plenty of resources available already, but like I said, the main problem is the mentality.

The BG article discusses problems with Peace Corps staff, but come on guys, that has nothing to do with the foundation of the organization. If you have problems with staff not supporting development, then hire better people. And if 'more than one-third of volunteers quit' before their two years is up, then maybe you should rethink your interviewing process and stop letting in a bunch of pansies. I wholeheartedly welcome change to the Peace Corps, but we should be looking at the right things.

I'm not sure if any of that made sense. Probably not. But hopefully you got some small glimpse of what I was trying to say.

I haven't written in a while, so here is a breakdown of my other updates:

Marrakech bombing - I'm not allowed to talk about it.Magic no longer in the playoffs - I'm a little ashamed of my team. I hope Dwight comes back next season, but wouldn't be surprised if he didn't. Whether or not he comes back, the rest of the team needs to figure out how to be just that, a team. I'm sick of watching Dwight and his Superman BS. Steve Nash - My latest obsession. Special Olympics Morocco - Where I'll be next week. So stoked, you don't even know.21 - How old I'm turning next month. Gnaoua - Music festival I'll be attending in a couple weeks. ON THE BEACH. Boo ya! IST - In-Service Training. Week-long training for PC first of next month. ON THE BEACH. Boo ya!Three friends/family tentatively scheduled to visit Morocco this year - self-explanatory.

So I have a new goal. I'm not going to tell you what it is, because I hate sharing goals and then failing at them, forcing me to face the disappointment of both myself and others. But let's just say I'm excited. And it involves jogging. And I'm really bad at secrets, so if you can guess it I'll probably tell you.

Also, this morning I finally went to the Monday souq (weekly market) by myself. Way to integrate Lacie, it's not like you've been here 5 months. The way my town works is we have a daily souq, which is about 10 minutes from my house, and a weekly (on Mondays) souq which is also about a 10 minute walk in the opposite direction. A lot of volunteers only have a weekly souq, and some have to travel out of their site to even get to to it. So that means I'm lucky to have both a daily and a weekly market. I have only been to Monday souq once, and it was with my site mate about two months ago. Why? Because I have to tell you, cultural integration can be intimidating. All of those men walking around squinting at you like you don't belong. In places I frequent, I'm really good at staring them down like they're the ones that don't belong, but my first time at a new place always gets me frazzled. But Monday souq is as much of a cultural norm as the hammam. So much so that my site mate got shuma'd, semi jokingly, for not going last week. So I was determined to go today, and I did. I stepped in sheep pee, cow pee, goat pee, and human pee, but I went. And it was fun. And my tomatoes were 2 dirhams a kilo instead of the usual 10 DH I pay in town, so you bet your bottom I'll be stepping in pee again next week.

As far as Earth Day goes, all of my counterparts have unofficially backed out of the plan, and Earth Day is in four days. Way to go guys. I'm a little disappointed to say the least, but I'm still trying to work something in. I have several back up plans, all of them small activities that involve me doing and funding everything myself, the opposite of self-sustainability. Not sure what to do about that, but my Moroccan go to guys don't want to work together, and Earth Day has an important message. You know, save the planet and all that. Stay tuned for more exciting updates.

Aaanndd I went to camp two weeks ago! I know, I know, a lot of updates. But this is good stuff, I promise, and I'll try to keep it short. All volunteers from the youth development sector are required to attend Moroccan run spring camps for a week, held all over the country. My camp was in Boulemane, a two-day trip from my site Spring camps, as aforementioned, are primarily run by Moroccan staff, but are co-run by about 4-6 PCVs. The first adventure was on the train ride up to camp, when I met a family in my compartment who offered me a place to stay for the night. Don't tell, but when I asked them if they knew of a hotel where I could spend the night, I was hoping they would offer their Moroccan hospitality. I'm so happy they did, because now they have offered me a place to stay whenever I pass through their way, as well as a husband and tips on converting.

Once at camp, the week was spent playing with Moroccan teens from 8am to 12am. It was seriously THE most fun I have had in my entire life. Well, almost. These kids were the most sincere and sweetest souls I have ever met, and I was happy to meet them and sad to leave. The camp could have been run better, with less free time and more planned activities, but I hope that the kids had fun, and maybe learned a little from all the questions they asked. Examples being, 'Do you like Obama? Do you like Michael Jordan? Do you know George Bush? Are you Muslim? No? Are you Catholic? Do you love me?'

OH! And oonneee more thing. I checked my blog stats today, and someone found my blog by searching for 'smoking pot in the peace corps.' Now that's pretty freaking funny. Have a good day everyone. (And thank you Cha. for these pictures)

Hanging out with the girls. There were only 10 girls out of the app. 65 campers.

Mock Moroccan wedding. The bride and groom posing for pictures, even though I think smiling is against the rules.

Talent Show/Dance Party. These guys are really good, they won first place in a contest in Fes.

Group shot! This was the last day, so sad :(

So the last time I posted, and I know you read my last post, I discussed an activity I was working on with a group of teenagers in a local school. I would like to reference the fear I had that my students would not receive their package of artwork and materials from a participating country, leaving me looking like the village idiot. Yesterday I faced that fear as I walked into the post office last minute to mail our small package, and the price was 777 dirham (about 100 bucks). Umm..what? That’s how much I pay for rent. Needless to say, I gave the gentleman behind the counter an awkward grimace, took my package, and went home. There was always the option of convincing my counterpart that there was never a return package in the deal; between his bad English and my terrible Arabic, I was pretty sure I could make him believe I never told him he would get anything. By the end of the day, I had come up with about five illogical and completely useless backup plans. What I actually did was dump out the contents of my huge box, putting all the supplies into a lightweight envelope hoping it would reduce the price, which it did. What I learned from this activity: Don’t be an idiot. I need to make sure that I plan out every single detail. This was supposed to be free. My site mate and I ended up paying for art supplies and shipping costs. What we should have done was find an organization to fund us, which in the end is better for sustainability, participation, and doesn’t cut into my ability to buy food. Earth Day (April 22) and Global Youth Service Day (April 15-17) are fast approaching, and we will see if it will be epic fail or success. Up until now I have relied mostly on Moroccans to lead activities, and now I am initiating activities and coming up with my own ideas. This implies responsibility and grownupness, foreign concepts to me. Yesterday I met with my host mom, whom I adore, as she will be my counterpart for ED. Tentative projects include tree planting, mural painting, discussions on deforestation and the importance of trash pick up, and a Dar Chebab hike into the mountains. I think I have another meeting on Friday at 11 with someone somewhere about something related to ED, which probably makes you raise your eyebrows in confusion. But now you know how I live everyday of my life over here. Next week I am taking off for a week to work at a spring camp. What I know about working at a camp: nothing. However, from the emails I have received, I can tell you that I will be expected to sing and dance in front of Moroccan children, teach them all I know about English, run subject specific clubs, and basically keep them entertained for most of the day. It can’t be too difficult, right? Either way, I get to travel out of my site, see Morocco, meet new volunteers, and work with kids. Good stuff. And fye, I now know how to cut of the water to my apartment and give myself an enema. Thank you, Peace Corps, for these life lessons.

My site mate and I have been working on a cultural exchange project, where a group of 25 students are told to draw, paint, or photograph something that represents the culture of their country. We send their pieces off to One World Classrooms (http://www.oneworldclassrooms.org/), who then exchanges it with a participating classroom from a different country. The following are pictures of the first half of the project:

Hard at work.

Done.

We will send these pictures, along with their paintings, and a couple other items to OWC as part of the exchange.

Our coworker from the DC goofing off.

The group. The second gentleman from the right is the students' art teacher.

Taking a break with the director of the school.

The students did a great job, bringing in items from home and spending time outside of class to finish the project. Among other things, they painted henna, Berber alphabet characters, tagine, and traditional jewelry. My worst fear is that they will receive nothing in return, and I will have to frantically paint enough American flags, apple pies, and McDonald's to impress 25 middle school students.

Other items of importance: This week marks my 6 month anniversary in country and the beginning of March Madness. I would say it is a very good week.

It has come to my attention that I have done a poor job in promoting the goals of my current employer, the Peace Corps. When one thinks of the Peace Corps, ideas of saving the world, time off from school, pot smoking hippies, and many other misguided, or perhaps very well-guided, conceptions spring to mind. However, whatever the Peace Corps is or is not, there are three main goals on which the organization was founded, and which still guide it today:

1. Helping the people of interested countries in meeting their need for trained men and women.2. Helping promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served.3. Helping promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans.

I may not have picked up much from my days as an undergraduate, but one of the questions that was constantly pounded into my head by almost every professor was, ‘When writing, ask yourself, ‘Why is this important?’’ So why are these goals important?

Skipping to the bottom, I will discuss strictly goal three: ‘Helping promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans.’ For anyone who has opened their eyes and or ears in the last month, there are a few things going on over here in Northern Africa, which are therefore affecting the attitudes and policies of Americans. I have up until this point refrained from commenting, as religion and politics are both touchy subjects and not my areas of expertise. However, back to why Peace Corps goals are important, because my area of the continent is under such turmoil, now more than ever, it is important that you as readers understand that what I am doing is important. That the people I am here helping; Muslims, Moroccans, human beings, are not the same radicals you see on television. The people that I know, that treat me as a sister, a friend, and a teacher, all after a scarce 4 months in site, are the people I am attempting to introduce to you.

So yes, follow your preferred news network, educate yourself on Al Qaeda, and know what it means to be Muslim and the discernable difference between that and radicalization. And understand this, reader, that the individuals involved in Al Qaeda are not representative of Muslims. Let me reiterate. Muslim does not mean Al Qaeda.

I entertain all questions, and have every intention (forgive me when I slack) of posting more on topics other than my showering habits. And please refer to my disclaimer, so I don’t get in trouble and or fired.

So I will divide this post into two categories, Peace Corps and personal. Although they are interconnected and in most ways cannot be separated, I felt that since it had been a while since I had written, writing a post on ‘what I didn’t do today’ would not suffice; you will understand in a minute.

Peace Corps Morocco often moves both quickly and slowly. Quickly in so much as the days are over before I know it, and before I feel like I have accomplished anything, but while I am living the day to day moments I constantly feel like I am waiting for something to happen. I am waiting for my kids to show up for class, waiting for my laundry to dry, waiting for the stores to open up after lunch or prayer; and it is this, along with so many other things, that makes Morocco a country of diversity. In between these moments, however, I often find times where things happen and bridges are built. For example, last week my site-mate and I were able to spend the evening with a couple of our students eating, drinking tea, and watching soap operas (favorite past times of Moroccans), and as the evening progressed the family cleared out only girls remained. We talked of the university system in Morocco, job opportunities, the need for English, and compared the cultures of various countries. It was a chance to build relationships with women who really want something besides early marriage (one of the sisters joked that her fiancé was still wrapped in plastic), and life in a small town. I was really proud of them, and they are not the first of my students to exhibit strong personalities and personal goals. There has been a larger group of students forming at the Dar Chebab, including girls, and after only two months in site I am proud of this small step.

Now on to personal.

‘The path to Hell is paved with good intentions.’ Now I’m not so sure that I am headed to Hell, but on this day where so many of my good intentions have gone awry, this was the best quote that I could come up with to fit the situation. After eating lunch at my host family’s yesterday, I was then talked into tea, then dinner, then spending the night (and so it goes for most Moroccan families), and so my Monday began with a late start, bad breath, and an overload of carbs; not bad, right? After heading home with a to-do list a mile long (start and finish all three PC reports, take the laundry off the roof that has been drying for two days and is now soaked from the rain, bleach vegetables, lesson plans, etc.), I immediately sat down to check my email and browse Facebook. Fail. I did not rise from my Indian-style position, except to grab and devour a freezer bag of trail mix, for another 4 hours. Despite finishing one of the three PC reports, which was due last week, I failed to complete anything on my list and decided to take a nap. Now, before you judge me, this nap had purpose. This nap was to purge my mind and body of all its laziness for the rest of the day. I am sure you can guess the results. After said nap I did manage to remove myself from the bed, where I had now been for about 8 hours. I wandered around the house and had the following monologue with myself:‘Should I take a bath?No, too much trouble.Should I shave?No, definitely too much trouble.My hair was looking kind of greasy.No.Well, I should probably change my underwear.I could probably make it one more day.Well, then what am I going to do?Fine, I’ll baby wipe and change my underwear.’

And then a light went off, and I realized I had not written in my blog in a while. I am unsure how it is noteworthy to inform the world that I am lazy, dirty, and unproductive. Maybe it is only to further those characteristics that I am writing about it, but here you have it, another post. Happy Valentine’s Day everyone.

There are many things I would like to share with you this week, but I am going to put it all aside and focus on one item that I believe is most important; the death of Sargent Shriver, our first Peace Corps director. A lot of you have probably already read about his passing this last Tuesday, as well as his many contributions to not just the United States but the entire world. But at the risk of sounding redundant, I think it is important to pay tribute to a man whose life and career are responsible for where I am today.

I embarrassingly did not know a great deal about Sargent Shriver before his death. However, after reading article after article on both he and wife this week, I found that Shriver accomplished so much that a summary of his life does not begin to do him justice. He graduated with a law degree from Yale, earned a Purple Heart for his service in World War II, and although President Kennedy is most known for founding the Peace Corps, it is Shriver who took Kennedy's motivating speech and made it into a meaningful organization, now 50 years strong. Shriver's name can also be associated with Job Corps, Head Start, and VISTA, all organizations dedicated to aiding others in need. Shriver served as ambassador to France in 1968, but his political career was almost nonexistent outside of that short stint, mostly due to his overshadowing in-laws (if you believe the twist of the papers).

In reading about Sargent Shriver's life and commitment, I am inspired as a person and a volunteer. At times in my life I feel the need to hit the refresh button and remind myself of my purpose in life, my commitment to others, and various other things that are difficult to explain. Sargent Shriver symbolizes all of those things to which I aspire, and I only hope that he found happiness and peace in his work. This year marks the Peace Corps' 50 year anniversary, and although Shriver suffered from Alzheimer's disease, I hope in some small way he understood how many lives he has touched over those 50 years.

“Break your mirrors! Yes, indeed — shatter the glass. In our society that is so self-absorbed, begin to look less at yourself and more at each other. Learn more about the face of your neighbor, and less about your own.

I suggest this: when you get to be 30, 40, 50, or even 70 years old, you’ll get more happiness and contentment out of counting your friends than counting your dollars. You’ll get more satisfaction from having improved your neighborhood, your town, your state, your country and your fellow human beings than you’ll ever get from your muscles, your figure, your automobile, your house, or your credit ratings.

You’ll get more from being a peacemaker than a warrior. I’ve been both, so I speak from experience. Break the mirrors!

Be peacemakers of the community, and you and your family will be happy.”

Sargent Shriver, Yale Class Day Address, 1994

Here are a few links for your perusal:

http://www.usatoday.com/news/washington/2011-01-18-sargent-shriver-obit_N.htm

(on his death/life)

http://www.vanityfair.com/online/daily/2011/01/sargent-shrivers-lasting-impact-an-appreciation.html

(a little perspective from a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer)

http://www.npr.org/2011/01/18/133018777/jfks-inaugural-speech-still-inspires-50-years-later

(A very good NPR article on the inspiration of Kennedy's speech and volunteerism)

And finally, something to cheer you up amidst all this death. Here is a funny and very accurate video about Peace Corps volunteers:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-wDq17zyN0&feature=player_embedded

Alright folks, here is the apartment. I was going to upload a video, but on the first take I decided it was boring and uninformative, and on the second take I hit my head on the ceiling while waving into the camera. So a third take was just not going to happen. I hope you enjoy the pictures, though, and have a nice weekend!

I was going to make the bed, but it just seemed less realistic.

My future imagination room. So far I've put up this map, which is now on the floor.

So now I'm calling it the shoe room.

Kitchen.

The plastic on the window is really good for letting the light in.

Come up to the roof!

I do my laundry in this room, which is pretty sweet.

Then I come out here and hang it to dry.

Then I look out here and get really excited.

Hello World! I happily greet you from my new apartment, of which pictures will soon follow. Living on your own will never be overrated. Eating over the sink, using the bathroom with the door open (is that too much?), dancing like nobody is watching (because nobody is!), laughing as loudly as you like without being shushed, and basically doing whatever you want is AMAZING! On a side note, I would like to thank miss Ana Laura for my Christmas presents. Thanks to my loyal friend, I now smell like lavender milk and am totally hooked on FOUND magazine. Mom and Wes, I'm starting to think your presents are a myth.Exciting things are brewing in my town as well. This Sunday, my sitemate and I are throwing a party for daycare students. The kids will decorate masks, dance to the Macarena (never outdated), and be entertained by a clown. Then on Wednesday, my classes begin for Intermediate, Advanced, and Baccalaureate students, all between the ages of 16 and 19. I'm excited, but am not sure what to expect. And now I will leave you with just that short little update. I promise pictures of the apartment and updates of classes, parties, and world change are soon to come. However, I will finish with something that is actually entertaining to read. The following is a letter from FOUND magazine (http://www.foundmagazine.com/about)'King of the Ladies' Found by Peter Rothbart, Olympia, WA I am the Almighty Patrick. My Biceps are as huge as the sun. Also my sexy body makes women faint. I have another title of which you may know me better: Lord Patrick, King of the ladies. I am not much of a warrior, but more of a sexy beast. If the time came and I must fight, I would call all of my women to fight for me. The women would gladly die in honor of me. For they know full-well that if they do good in battle they will be worthy of an evening alone with the almighty PATRICK. Some information about myself: I have been born and raised in the red-lands. I have uprooted and came to this place to pledge to Hrothgar. I shall bring my lovely ladies and we will all pledge allegience to the mighty hrothgar! Continuing about myself, I enjoy walks by the ocean (with a female) and also, I enjoy candlight dinners and chick flicks. I prefer having nights that have happy endings if you "knome sane?" I work in my spare time, when I am not with a woman. I am employed at Izzys Pizza bar. Perhaps you have all heard of round table? My place of work is much greater than that one. I have asperations to one day be a police officer, or if that does not work a Jester for Lord Hrothgar! But, before I die, I hope to be like Bob Barker; Rich and can't keep the ladies off him. So my new friends, let us get drunk, beligerantly drunk we may have one night stands with obese females and never contact them again!!! oh yes, and all hail hrothgar!

So it's been one of those days. The kind where you get in the shower, turn on the water, and look down only to realize you have yet to remove your underwear. Or the kind of day where you get half way through shaving your legs and discover the plastic cover is still on your razor. Except because I no longer shower or shave, it was one of those days where I woke up and realized I was so tired last night I forgot to undress. Have you ever had one of those days? I hope so, because if not I should probably be embarrassed for sharing 'tmi.'Other than that slightly awkward start to today, this past week has been eventful and fun. A few noteworthy things about this past week:I got my first care package today, a very nice Christmas surprise. Thank you Disston for being such an awesome friend. Two girls walked into the DC (shocking as it has been only boys thus far) wanting English classes, and so my site mate and I gave them a mock placement test. It gave us some much needed foresight into our future classes. My site mate and I also were given the duty of planning an aerobics/yoga class, for which no one showed up. I did my research, however, and I am prepared to teach some killer moves to the beat of Rhianna. Today we finished a legitimate placement test, which we will give to a set of grade school children next week.I went for my first jog in Morocco last week. Why is this noteworthy? Because it just is.The kids in my neighborhood have started to greet me in Darija (as opposed to French, Spanish, English, etc.), kiss me, or shout 'Lisa' as I walk by. I feel at home now. And the list goes on and on, but that I'm sure gives you a small taste. In looking at friends' blogs I have discovered that it adds to the aesthetic value to add pictures, and I am sure will pique your interest as well. I am therefore including some photos for your enjoyment.

This is from the beginning, during language classes

The Koutoubia Mosque, Marrakech

Getting excited about swearing in as official Peace Corps Volunteers

Shopping in Marrakech

My host mom and me, cleaning up the DC

I am sitting in my room as the power flickers in and out, studying English grammatical structures in anticipation of my future classes, all the while juggling Darija vocabulary in the back of my head, and still sometimes having an ‘aha!’ moment where I remember a Russian equivalent, and I am so excited to share that with you. I have picked up a habit from my friend of rubbing my hands together when I am excited, and I find myself doing that an embarrassing amount as my time here progresses. Every day, as my vocabulary and comprehension improves, I feel as if words are swirling and floating over my head. A strange visual, but I dare to use the word again; exciting! Don’t get me wrong, I often sit at first, second, and third breakfast wondering what everyone is saying, making up my own versions of their conversations, but little by little (shwiya b shwiya) I am noticing a difference. On a side note, I would like to make an observation on the generosity of the Moroccan people, using an example from this morning’s breakfast. My host mom and her sister usually leave for work before 8 am, so this morning I was surprised to find them as well as their mother in the kitchen at 8:15, emptying and cleaning a set of drawers. I devoted little thought to the process, except in noticing they were late for work. The three women spent at least 15 minutes disassembling, cleaning, and reassembling the set of drawers while I looked on eating my cookies and drinking my coffee. When they had finished, my host mom told me the drawers were for my room and she would bring me a desk as well when she returned from work. For those of you who know me, I tell long and often boring stories, which occasionally have a purpose. The purpose of this story is to point out the graciousness of the majority of Moroccans I have encountered, and to voice my gratitude for hosting and helping Peace Corps Volunteers for so many decades. I look forward to (hopefully) living up to the high standards Moroccans have for us.

In response to the negative feedback I have received, here is an update on my life. In return, I expect comments and questions, specifically on what you would like to know about Moroccan life. Until then, I will just update you on what I find interesting. First of all, I now have a permanent site. After meeting in Fes last week, each person in our staaj (group) was given a site, and the next morning we were shipped off for a four-day assessment of our new homes. After about a 10-hour trip, stretched over two days, my sitemate and I arrived in I-Town (my town will remain unnamed in order to follow the policies of the Peace Corps, etc.). I-Town is a beautiful city. At first glance, it is extremely clean, i.e. lacking garbage-strewn streets, and the buildings all look fairly new. My host mom gave me an approximate population of 27,000, which includes the surrounding 12 duars (villages). I would say that is an underestimate due to the size of the town, but of course it is impossible for me to know for sure. The people are extremely friendly. Harassment was minimal, perhaps due to its size and proximity to other touristic locations. Darija, the language I am currently speaking, is the most common. However, the majority of the population also speaks Tashelhit, a Berber dialect. Tashelhit is spoken a lot in the home, especially among the older generation. I am also guessing that Darija may be limited once I enter the duars. Some volunteers choose to get by on key Berber phrases, but in order to better integrate I am hoping to speak both languages at equal levels of fluency. I was asked several times in my four day visit whether I planned to learn Berber. The dar chebab appears to be well-structured, with classes and activities including computers, music, aerobics, and theatre. The grounds include a nice basketball court and a soccer field with bleachers. Surrounding the dar chebab is a human rights organization, a national organization (I am not sure of the duties of this org.), a nitti niswi (woman’s organization), as well as a boarding school. The building housing the boarding school holds classes in cosmetology, knitting, sewing, as well as daycare classes. The town itself has shops of every sort, multiple cyber cafes, banks, etc. Being an obsessive worrier, realizing how developed my site is and the amount of resources already at hand, I immediately decided I could not be of use to this town. There are certain things a PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer) can provide, such as access to grants and scholarships, which would help regardless of the town’s condition. However, I had envisioned changing the world. I have been reassured multiple times that there are projects to be found, and of course it is impractical to define a city’s needs in 4 days. So we will see. Because you are probably bored of this blog by now, and I have just barely summarized my new site, I will list 10 things you should/maybe need to know about what I have been thinking and doing the past couple weeks. They are listed in no particular order. 1. I miss my friends (yeah, I know). 2. I am doing a practice project in my temp. site; a jogging club for girls. 3. Next week is Eid l-Kbir, an Islamic holiday. Google it. I’ll be eating a sheep from head to toe. 4. Friends’ grandparents are beginning to pass away at an alarming rate. I feel we are quickly losing an important generation. 5. I HAVE A PO BOX! Email me if you want my address. 6. My language is actually coming along (I think). 7. I am knitting again. 8. I downloaded skype today. I have no idea how it works, but let’s talk! 9. Seventeen days until I am an official volunteer. 10. I hope I don’t quit.

I guess ,y apologies are twofold: I apologiwe for my lapse in communication; and for the fact that this post will be short with little information: For those of you who have used a French keyboard; you understand my frustration: For those of you who have not; just read this post; and you zill understand: The moral of this story§ Always bring your own co,puter to the cyber:

So I guess a couple of things have occurred since my last blog; so I will break it down for you; whoever you are:

I successfully conauered an entire weeks worth of diarrhea: I crapped my pants once in mid squat; and now that it is over; i find my conversations with my fellow trainees are not quite as exciting: feel free to ask for more details:

i took a one night vacation to fes last weekend with some friends: much needed; and definitely worth it: donùt look for pictures; because my brand new camera seems to have dirt stuck in it: so now every time i take a picture; there is a black spot ruining the kodak moment: i am thinking i will buy a new camera when i get my settling in allowance:

how is my arabic§ i am not sure: i am learning several semesters worth of darija in two months: there are therefore days where i feel like a failure; days when i surprise myself; and days when everything shuts down altogether:

I have a lot more to say; but I also need to leave ti,e to stop for cookies on the way home:

So until next time:::::

So I made it in one hot smelly piece. I drove through New Jersey (cheers to The Boss!) and New York City for the first time, and from there flew to Casablanca. It was probably the most exciting 24 hours of my life. Right now I am in the town of Mehdia, which is on the coast, giving me the chance to continue living the beach life for a short 4 days. We will be going through basic orientation, vaccinations, etc. while here, and then the 68 trainees will be split by Youth Development and Small Business Development and go to our separate sites.

As far as today goes, it has been pretty non-stop. We arrived in Casablanca around 8 this morning, drove 2 hours to Mehdia, ate lunch for two hours, and went straight into orientation. The food is definitely worth mentioning. First we had a salad that reminded me of Russian layered salads. It was a huge plate of beets, cucumbers, tomatoes, olives, lettuce, and carrots, with a dressing drizzled on top. Then they served a plate of fish. Third course was lamb and prunes. Dessert was a banana. I have no desire to leave this place any time soon.

Thoughts and reflections? The people are friendly, both American and Moroccan, the food is fantastic, and I am excited to start my job. So far I have been waving and smiling trying to be the friendly American girl, but I think that once I move to a rural area I will have to be more conservative with my behavior. Other than that I just need a shower and a nap.

I just checked my email and found the following message:

Hi,

Glad that I'm just browsing now in the Internet and found your contact,I'm Micheal (Male) by name,please i will like us to hold a good relationship with a real love,so i will like you to contact me for more introduction,also i will sent my pictures to you so we can know more about each other, my dear,age or color even distance can't deny any genuine love,so please lets give our self a trial.

M.B

I'm sorry Morocco, how can I turn down 'genuine love?'

On a serious note, how did this dude find me?

This post is for Ana. My one follower; who makes me feel like it's ok to be socially awkward not only in my real life, but also on the Internet.

So I don't have much to tell you Ana. The things that are running through my mind are the following:

I wish I were eating a pizza right nowShould I buy a jacket for Morocco, and if so, do I really need a winter jacket, a rain jacket, a sweater, and oh my gosh this packing list is really starting to confuse meIf I can't have a pizza, what are my other options?I feel like I'm being dishonest when I delete off of a blog, because you can't delete from a journalThe fact that in reading another volunteer's blog this evening, I got the impression that I will be wiping my butt not with toilet paper, but with my left hand. I am worried that I will not have friends when I return.Ok, let's do away with the bulletsEveryone at work keeps asking me if I'm ready to go, and how it feels (I even got a present from a guest today!). It doesn't feel real yet. Even though my room is almost packed up, I no longer own my own vehicle, and I have plane tickets to Philadelphia. I honestly don't think it will feel real until I am jet lagged in Morocco, wiping my butt with my hand. I'm too scared something will happen to the plans I have worked so hard to put together, and for which I've waited so 'patiently.' So I'd rather save my excitement for the landing, just in case. And I guess there is just one more thing. I want to say thank you to all of my friends, who have been my family for the past 1 to 9 years. I wouldn't be the same person I am right now if it had not been for you guys. And when I'm in Morocco, with no toilet paper, tampons, or Blue Moon, I'll be thinking about you and how nice it will be when I get to see your faces again.

As there are only 19 days until I leave my beloved state of Florida, I decided it was about time I started this thing. First, for those of you who do not know, I am leaving on September 13, flying to Philadelphia for a day, and then will be on a plane to Morocco the very next day for a two year stint in the Peace Corps. My job will entail a variety of activities that fall under the title of Youth (and Women) Development. Basically, your guess is as good as mine.

I would say, in case anyone is wondering, that I am definitely excited and happy to be going. I do worry about getting on that plane and leaving behind all the things that I love. I definitely realize I knew what I was doing signing up for this, but it didn't hit me until about a week ago that my nephews will be two years older when I get back, and that my best friend may be married without me, etc. So every time I feel excited, I also feel a tinge of sadness and maybe even guilt in leaving. I hope this is normal.

But with those small apprehensions aside, I am very psyched and cannot wait to make a home for myself in Morocco. That is still a few weeks away, though, and today I still have done hardly any shopping, packing, or organizing of my brain. So now that the blogging world knows what I am thinking and where I am going, I think I will sign off and get down to business.